


lay it on me

by xmjcx



Series: kristanna smut week [1]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Day One, F/M, Kristanna Smut Week, Kristanna Smut Week 2020, Post-Frozen 2 (2019), in a family way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:33:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22655545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmjcx/pseuds/xmjcx
Summary: Kristoff is always happy to serve his queen - whatever her wishes may be.
Relationships: Anna/Kristoff (Disney)
Series: kristanna smut week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629802
Comments: 14
Kudos: 83





	lay it on me

**Author's Note:**

> so I've not proof-read this but I'm super tired so I'll check it over tomorrow for typos etc. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy my first contribution!! Eeeeeek.

  
  
The Queen had always considered walls to be such funny things.  
  
For most of her life – as much as she could recall, anyway – she had utterly despised them. She had thoroughly hated the way in which they entrapped her and locked her in, had persistently begrudged the way in which they contained her and consistently refused her any chance of freedom.  
  
Now, though, Anna didn’t mind walls so much – especially not the four walls of her bedchamber.  
  
Correction: _their_ bedchamber.  
  
Her feelings towards doors were much the same.  
  
Anna knew that she didn’t have a particularly healthy relationship with closed doors; and whilst she appreciated that it stemmed from a very warped period of time where a closed bedroom door (and closed gates, which she supposed were _kind of_ doors, but on a bigger scale) had emotionally scarred her, it didn’t tend to make living with those memories any easier.  
  
Now, though, Anna found that she didn’t mind doors so much, either. In fact, _right now_ , she was _grateful_ for the bedroom door and the lock that had been turned on it, too.  
  
As the newly crowned Queen of Arendelle, most of Anna’s days were taken up with scheduled meetings; the majority of which were dull and boring and so, _so_ tedious. More and more of her time was spent with advisors and dignitaries who all seemed to believe that they knew what was best for her country, despite Anna’s feelings otherwise. And whilst she fully embraced her new role – had thrown herself head-first into it without second thought – that didn’t mean that she loved all aspects of it.  
  
Today, however, was different.  
  
From the privacy of their bedchamber, nobody was around to hear them _(well, unless the palace staff didn’t know any better)_ , which meant that Anna could make as much noise as she wanted without having to worry that anyone might hear her and think any less of her because of it. She supposed that being so vocal during her most intimate moments with her husband wasn’t the most _regal_ thing to do, but Anna didn’t care much about that kind of nonsense. Besides, she absolutely considered it to be impossible for anyone to be intimate with her husband - _not that she wanted anyone to be, of course_ \- without making a sound.  
  
There were still times when they did have to be careful, times when Anna did have to make an effort to be quiet – usually during stolen moments in secret spots that they had discovered all over the castle, and usually with one of his large palms pressed tightly over her mouth in order to drown out most of her cries. But today, they were well and truly enclosed within the private space of their large bedchamber; so there was no need for Anna to attempt to muffle or bite back the wanton moan that poured out of her throat as her husband’s lips trailed up her inner thighs.  
  
Anna gasped – and then giggled lightly – when teeth nipped at the sensitive, freckled skin of her upper thigh.  
  
“Kristoff,” she hummed, and shuffled herself slightly on the bed – her body restless from the way in which he teased her. _”Please.”_  
  
Their afternoons were so rarely spent like this – not necessarily with them being intimate as such, but with them just generally being _together_ , especially since Anna’s new role demanded so much of her time, effort and concentration. They may have been typical newly-weds who struggled to keep their hands to themselves, but they were also new royals – her now with the title of Queen, and he her Prince Consort – and they were typically exhausted and drained after long days and short nights. A few months ago, when she had initially been crowned, then Anna would have certainly felt guilty for indulging herself in her husband. Now, she had well and truly learned to thoroughly enjoy opportunities such as these whenever they presented themselves.  
  
Kristoff rocked back on his knees, pulling his face away from where it had been tantalizingly close to her burning hot core so that he could look her in the eyes. Even from this position – with her perched upright on the end of their large four-poster bed and he knelt between her open legs – his size was abundantly clear, and he was near enough eye-level with her.  
  
He licked his lips, and the sight caused her to whimper. “What do you want, Anna?” he asked her, his voice thick with lust, and Anna arched her back ever so slightly.  
  
“You,” she responded immediately – a little short of breath – and without hesitation, his lips were on hers. Anna let out a surprised yet satisfied squeal into his mouth as his tongue nudged against her own, and she gave him full access to her own.  
  
Kristoff pawed at either side of her waist with both of his huge hands – not bothering to take the time to remove her gown – and the way in which he lifted her body with such _ease_ caused Anna to grin against his lips. She brought her palms to rest against his jaw and deepened their kiss, not caring where on their bed he positioned her so long as he continued to kiss her with such passion and raw need.  
  
He seemed to be satisfied once he had placed her in the centre of their bed – so that he had enough room to hover over her, with his lower half pressed tightly against her own, even through their layers of clothes, and his elbows braced on either side of her head to support his weight – and he broke their lips apart so that he could pepper soft, wet kisses across her jaw, earlobe and then down the column of her throat. Anna writhed beneath him and gasped in pleasure when he pushed back against her.  
  
“Kris,” she panted, and she knew that she sounded desperate, but god, she _was_. “I need you. Now.”  
  
The blonde smirked against her collarbone, and he sighed against her skin – his hot breath causing her to shudder – before he moved one of his hands to gather up the skirts of her dress so that he had easier access to where she needed him most whilst his other arm remained by her head, propping him up so that he didn’t crush her. Two of his calloused fingers dipped into her folds with practiced ease, and he gathered up the moisture there before he circled over her clit; and Anna practically screamed in ecstasy.  
  
It had taken some time for the royal couple to learn what they enjoyed. Neither were experienced, and though their wedding night had been nothing to brag about in terms of sexual prowess, they had certainly made up for it since. Now, just a mere few months since their wedding, Kristoff knew her body like his own – so it didn’t take long at all for Anna’s legs to tremble violently, and for her abdomen to clench and unclench at rapid speed whilst her orgasm approached; and she writhed underneath him until the pressure and the pleasure overwhelmed her.  
  
His thumb circled faster and faster around her clit and his fingers pumped their way in and out of her in the way that he knew she liked best, and it felt like hardly any time had passed them before Anna came with a whine, her forehead damp with sweat. Her body spasmed underneath Kristoff’s, and although she whimpered at the loss of his fingers from inside of her, she smiled dreamily when she realised that he was tugging at his trousers.  
  
Anna was still very much basking in the afterglow of her orgasm, and she practically purred when he murmured in her ear. “You ready?” he asked, nipping at her earlobe for good measure; and Anna simply nodded her head up and down – her chin nudging against his shoulder – since all coherent thought had currently escaped her.  
  
Kristoff entered her in one smooth motion, and he let out a deep, guttural moan as his forehead dropped against her own. The Queen had long accustomed to the significant size of her lover, but there was always an initial feeling of him stretching her that made her want to _sing_. Anna nuzzled her nose against his as their breath mingled, and after a few beats of stillness, Kristoff pulled his hips back enough so that he almost left her empty before he pushed back into her once again.  
  
The redhead had always marveled at the way in which her mountain man could be so loving; so careful and so soft and so tender and so _gentle_ with her. Despite the strength that Anna knew lived within his defined biceps and taught abdomen, despite the years of hard, physical labour that had roughened him in many ways, he had always been so delicate in the way that he handled her.  
  
And yet – and _yet_ \- there were times like these when Kristoff utterly lost himself in the pleasure of their union, times like these when he was buried so deeply inside of her that he seemed to forget where they were and who they were supposed to be, and he would revert back to the wild that she knew still lingered within him. Anna _lived_ for these moments; longed for them, even – she loved the way in which he nipped at her flesh, the way in which he snapped his hips harshly against her own, the way in which he dug his thick fingers into her waist and her ass hard enough to bruise her skin.  
  
The pleasure seemed to consume him and turn him into something else entirely, something _free_ , and Anna wondered why she had ever been brought up reading fairy stories, why she had ever been allowed to think that she needed or wanted some hopeless, _useless_ prince when she could have a man like _this_ , a man like _Kristoff_?  
  
She cursed softly when his thumb found her clit once again, and Kristoff huffed a laugh against her mouth. Anna busied her hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, and she could sense from the way in which his thrusts grew less and less precise and more and more sloppy that he was close to his own release.  
  
The words that fell out of her mouth surprised them both.  
  
“I - I want you to do it inside of me,” she panted against his mouth, her own suddenly feeling quite dry, her words practically a whisper. She watched as his brows furrowed slightly, and Anna whimpered when he pounded into her with emphasised force. This was something that they had spoken about briefly, here and there – the two of them had an unspoken agreement that a family was something that they both wanted and was equally something that they could work out in time, together.  
  
Apparently, that time was now.  
  
Anna squeezed her eyes shut before she continued. She didn’t know where the words came from, had no idea where this desire had been buried inside of her; but she allowed them to flow, regardless. “Kristoff, I –” she huffed on another particularly forceful thrust, and she tugged instinctively at the shorter strands of his fair hair. “I want you to make a baby with me.”  
  
Her words may have been spoken in a low, hushed tone; but Anna knew that her husband had heard what she said loud and clear, could tell if only by the way in which the pace of his hips pounding against her own had stuttered once and then twice whilst he processed her words. For a couple of seconds, Anna didn’t breathe, and she worried whether she had gone too far – wondered if she had brought this up too soon in their marriage – until Kristoff resumed his previous rhythm: if not with a little more intent.  
  
His nose brushed against her own, and Anna gasped when Kristoff adjusted the angle of the snap of his hips ever so slightly so that he could reach an impossibly deeper spot within her. “That’s what you want?” he asked, his voice almost as low as hers.  
  
Anna whimpered as he relentlessly pounded into her heat with a passion that she hadn’t seen from him before. His lips pressed fiercely against hers, and Anna welcomed their return; parting her mouth so that his tongue could nudge against her own. The redhead could tell that he was close – so, _so_ close – and she wanted nothing more than to feel her husband empty himself inside of her, to know that he was filling her with purpose, to believe that perhaps they could grow something wonderful out of this love that they had developed.  
  
He suckled on her lower lip before he panted against her mouth, his breath hot and heavy as it fanned against her chin. “Hm? Want me to give you a baby, Anna?” he pressed, and Anna nodded her head quickly as she chased his lips.  
  
“God, _yes_ ,” she sighed, and although her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, she could have sworn that she felt him grin against her mouth.  
  
“Whatever -” he panted, his hands moving to hoist underneath of her knees and part her legs impossibly wider for him. It stung a little, but Anna could handle it – she was sure that she could handle anything, so long as he was there for the ride. “Whatever my Queen commands,” he continued. “ _Gods_ , Anna, baby, I -”  
  
“Kris, _do it_ ,” she practically begged, a hiss escaping her lips as she tugged at his hair once again. Anna was overwhelmed by the feeling of him stretching her as far as she could go, and the slapping sound of flesh on flesh filled the silence between them whilst they both fought to catch their breath. “Please. _Please._ Make a baby with me, Kristoff, put it in me _now_ -”  
  
His whole body went still as he hovered above her, and then Kristoff came with a low grunt. His reddened face fell into the crook of her neck, and his damp mop of hair tickled her chin, but Anna reveled in the feeling. She grinned widely at the sensation of her husband emptying himself inside of her, somewhat taken aback by how pleasant it felt, and she thought then that she could never have him release anywhere but inside of her ever again.  
  
For a short while, they stayed like that – the pair of them half-dressed; her dress skirts bunched up around her hips and her undergarments discarded sloppily on the cool floor of their bedchamber, his shirt unbuttoned and his pants halfway down his thighs. Kristoff trembled slightly from where he had collapsed on top of her, and once his body had stilled, he pulled his hips back slightly so that the softening length of him was no longer buried inside of her. The blonde rolled himself next to her, their arms brushing as they lay next to one another.  
  
Anna’s chest heaved in time with her husband’s, and with flushed cheeks, she chanced a glance at him – only to find that he was looking right back at her. Her light blue eyes roamed over his for a moment, and they both broke out into a wide smile simultaneously.  
  
“I can’t believe that we just did that,” Anna whispered. She didn’t quite trust herself to speak any louder considering the fact that she couldn’t be certain that her voice wouldn’t break from the thick emotion that had settled within her. Her husband had seen her resolve break many a time, but she didn’t want this moment to be ruined: not when it was all so _perfect_.  
  
“Me neither,” he murmured, his own breathing still a little laboured, and Anna rolled over so that she could rest her head against his chest. The redhead listened as Kristoff’s heart thundered away in his chest, and one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders whilst his hand came to play with the auburn strands of her hair. The redhead didn’t pull her ear away from his chest until his heart rate had settled down to its usual steady rhythm.  
  
“I love you,” she breathed, the words effortless and familiar as she gazed into his honey-soft eyes. “ _So_ much. And -” she inhaled, these words unfamiliar, now. “And I can’t _wait_ to start a family with you, Kristoff.”  
  
All of this business had seemed incredibly abstract before, and yet now it felt _real_. Anna had learned bits and pieces over time (especially since the wedding) about childbearing from the wiser women in her life – like Gerda and Yelena – so she knew that she was unlikely to conceive so quickly: in fact, she had been told that it could take months for her to fall pregnant, and so she knew not to be disheartened if it didn’t happen immediately.  
  
Still, as the evidence of their union trickled from within her to cause a sticky dampness at the top of her thighs, Anna smiled softly at her husband.  
  
“Anna,” he responded, his hand dropping from where it had been absent-mindedly brushing through the strands of her hair so that he could cup her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. “I never thought that I could want something more than I want you. But -”  
  
“But?” she encouraged, her eyes twinkling.  
  
“But I can’t wait to start a family with you, either.”


End file.
